


how strange, to be remembered

by venusintwelfth



Series: Oisuga Weekend 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Oisuga Weekend, Post-Canon, can we blame him though, not much actually occurs between the two, suga is an enigma and oikawa can't shake him, suga is going through the twenties' blues but he's living, this is mainly Suga's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusintwelfth/pseuds/venusintwelfth
Summary: "He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground."Ten years after Suga last steps off a high-school court, Oikawa recollects a "Mr. Refreshing" in a post-game interview, and Suga is left scrambling.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Series: Oisuga Weekend 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923922
Comments: 42
Kudos: 257





	how strange, to be remembered

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! this is a little late, but it's my last piece for oisuga weekend. i went with the free prompt, building off an idea i tweeted a week or two ago.

The line between a quiet life and a forgotten one is thin, and Sugawara Koushi has never been good at keeping his balance.

He is nearing thirty years old now, on the other side of his twenties and life has long since swayed into a rhythm. Waking up early becomes automatic, often rising before his alarm goes off. His students walk in with energy that Suga envies, every time, always ready with a smile and “Good morning!”. No matter how many years he does this, he leaves with his heart full. 

And it should feel jarring, coming from a room where the noise ricochets off the wall, to complete silence, lock clicking back into place the only sound in his apartment. But Suga has always loved the contrast, makes sure to take a few minutes each day just to sit and soak it in. After attending to the needs of his students all day, coming home feels like greeting himself, being reminded of his own wants, his own presence. 

Suga is not always alone, visiting the local cafe some mornings, frequenting the bar some evenings. The other teachers at the school get together every once in a while, and it’s full of laughter as they exchange stories of students over drinks. Other times, he catches up with Daichi or Asahi, occasionally some of the old second-years as well. 

In all, life is pleasant, a steady stream that flows easily for Suga. It is not a life of pleasure, but of fulfillment, and as Suga grew older he learned that the latter is much more rewarding. He feels content with the way things have worked out, the outcomes of all his actions. 

However, just as much as Suga is happy, he is also human, and some nights this humanity is the loudest thing in the room. Some nights, the ghosts of all he could’ve been make a home on his nightstand. Some nights the loneliness settles into the wrinkles in the sheets and no matter how much he tosses and turns he cannot disentangle himself. 

There are nights where Suga stares at the phone and wills it to ring. But Daichi’s new spot on the force means plenty of night shifts and Asahi is usually traveling somewhere for work. Many of the teachers have families of their own to return to, homes ripe with movement. He was never close with his parents, hardly interacting outside of monthly phone calls and the occasional visit. 

To grow old is to fade, Suga thinks. Watching as paths become parallel, no longer crossing and Suga knows he is not being forgotten. Not purposely. He knows he is loved and he knows he is cherished. But the heart does not care for knowledge. Suga does not have a name for this feeling, yet every so often it claims him as its own. 

Over the years, Suga has learned not to fight it on the days it descends on him. He sits in his bed, lets the tears fall, lets himself be broken, wishing someone would have warned him of the heaviness that comes with age. Watches the hours fold into each other until dark purple nights are tinged with orange. 

Other nights he sits, eyes closed, fearing he is the only one who feels this way at all. 

* * *

On the better days, his boredom leads him to watching volleyball matches. One time, when the other Karasuno players had a reunion, someone asked if any of them regretted not pursuing the sport further. Suga laughed, because no matter how many internal turmoils he’s talked himself through, this choice was one of the few that went down easy. 

He can feel nothing but pride when he looks at how far his old teammates have gone. It’s the reason he always has a soft spot for the rowdy students in his classroom - the stubborn ones. He knows the power that comes from being believed in, loves nurturing those who are so used to life on defense. Whenever he can’t make a game, he is sure to record it, always messaging Hinata or Kageyama or Tsukki to let them know, and giving them a few pointers when he feels like teasing them. 

Today, though, it is not one of his old teammates on the screen but an old rival. Suga was never close with Oikawa Tooru, never really worked alongside him like he had with the other teams. He knows of him, of course, being a main part of two of his most intense high school games. Suga was surprised to hear that Oikawa had gone to the other side of the world - impressed as well, imagining that the decision couldn’t have been an easy one. 

He’s half listening while eating the dinner he prepared for himself, catching the tail-end of their game. It seems that Oikawa’s team has won, and they’re asking a round of questions, enamored by this new Japanese recruit. 

_“You’ve caught the eye of professionals as early as high school. Is there anything you remember from that time that’s helped you now that you’re here?”_. Suga catches them asking as he finishes his meal and places his bowl on the coffee table. 

Oikawa gives a pleasant smile, a little less jagged than Suga remembers from high school, before answering: _“Oh there’s so many memories I could talk about. I had an amazing team, and they really pushed me to be better in so many ways.”_

A pause. _“But one memory that came up when I first got here was of this kid from another team. He wasn’t a starting player or anything, but he was good. I used to call him “Mr. Refreshing”, because of the way his team stood a little straighter every time he walked onto the court. There was not only trust, but a deep respect. Watching how passionately he cheered for each member, no matter their year or skill, it was easy to see why. When I first got here, I was worried that talent wouldn’t be enough. I was away from home and got really frustrated from time to time. But that memory reminded me there’s more to volleyball than just how well you play, even at a national level. It’s one of the things that pushed me to get to know my team a bit better, off the court.”_

_The interviewer smiles, “That’s touching Oikawa, thanks for sharing.”_

_“Yeah,” Oikawa says, a little dazed,_

Suga doesn’t know exactly when he stopped breathing. He feels like he’s sitting on the other side of a confessional - two strangers suddenly intimate - nothing but a screen separating them. 

_“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Oikawa laughs and it sounds like it’s grounded again, “The things we remember.”_

Suga takes a deep breath and turns off the television. 

* * *

It’s easy to convince himself that Oikawa is talking about someone else. The two were never friends, only seeing each other on the court, and Suga is sure he would remember being given a ridiculous nickname such as “Mr. Refreshing”. The demands of life continue, between grading and grocery runs, the first half of the week goes by in a blur. 

It’s a text from Daichi that slows him down on Thursday, an attachment with the question _“Have you seen this?”_

Suga had never really been the best at Twitter, most of the trends blowing up while he’s at work, too far behind once he’s settled down to be bothered. 

But what stares back at him this time, is not a funny meme, but rather his own name. In an article. 

_**“Could Oikawa Tooru’s ‘Mr. Refreshing’ Be An Old Karasuno Rival?”**_

He quickly skims over the article as he paces his living room, snacks long forgotten as he feels his stomach turn. Luckily all of it is speculation, options narrowed down as Seijoh didn’t play at nationals. He’s one of the few setters that didn’t start but still played often, and as he finishes reading he thinks it’s not a wonder at all that his name pops up. 

He taps Daichi’s contact and his friend picks up on the second ring. Suga is always grateful for that, the way Daichi’s presence is solid, even when it’s not frequent. 

“Daichi, what’s going on?” Suga sighs. 

“I’m not really sure, I saw Oikawa trending and figured it was just suggested cause I follow volleyball, and I know they had a game the other day,” Daichi explains, “I saw the article and figured you hadn’t heard anything yet, since you would’ve said something by now.”

“It’s trending? What are they saying?” Suga asks, voice rising a little.

“Kind of a split. Some fans have done some digging - you know Oikawa always had a bunch of female fans. There’s tapes and pictures from old matches out there, and I think people are putting two and two together. Oh, here’s some tweets saying you two are hot and should date. That’s fun, right? You’re going viral.”

Suga is quiet for a long moment. 

“Suga? Are you okay?” Daichi asks, concern weaving into his voice. 

“Daichi, he can’t be talking about me,” Suga whispers, “There’s no way it’s me. I didn’t even play much, Daichi, I wasn’t even the highlight. I was good, yeah, but nothing noteworthy. It has to be some cruel joke or something,” Suga exhales. “It has to be someone else.”

Something softens in Daichi’s tone, as he says “Suga, we’ve talked about this. You’ve always been something captivating. Even in high school. You always tried to downplay it, but anyone around you could see it. Don’t you remember all your admirers?” 

And he does, he remembers shyly turning away confessions and brushing off any compliments on his volleyball skills. Insecurity latches onto the young mind with hunger, and there’s just some things you don’t grow out of. 

“Even if it is me, Daichi, what am I supposed to do? I work at a school, if the speculation or rumors get too crazy I-”

“Suga, take a breath,” Daichi interrupts him. “It's just one article and some teens messing around. Only Argentina fans and old teammates are likely to see anything about it, and they’re not going to come running to tell your boss. Besides, it’s the internet, you’re kind of powerless to stop it.”

Suga feels his eyes sting as tears of frustration spring up, but he takes a breath as he’s asked and replies, “You’re right.”

“I’ll let you know if I see anything else. You’re gonna be okay, Suga,” Daichi promises, with enough conviction that Suga can pretend to believe him. 

“Thanks, Daichi,” Suga says, hanging up the phone before sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

Left alone with his thoughts, Suga feels like he’s floating. He has always lived a humble life, a quiet one. Felt best behind the scenes, whether through coaching or teaching or cheering from the audience. Instead he finds himself thrust onto a stage, except no one has given him any lines. All he can do is freeze, soak in the silence before the light narrows in. 

He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground.

For once, the melody of his life has fallen out of rhythm, and all Suga can do is lay down and rest, for there is still work tomorrow. Perhaps that is the greatest gift time gives, that it moves forward even when one does not feel ready for it. The way it forces one into action. 

* * *

One of Suga’s students celebrates a birthday on Friday, bringing in treats and party hats for the place. The kids are hyper, but Suga leaves feeling a bit happier than usual, watching his students have fun. He picks up some ingredients to make one of his favorite meals back in his apartment, and finds himself lost in cooking. Once he’s enjoyed his meal, dishes left in the sink, he settles in with his laptop to catch any last-minute emails so he can enjoy his weekend. 

He answers a few about grades and confirming deadlines before he finds a subject line that makes him pause.

**_Subject:_ ** _Mr. Refreshing Interview_

Shaking hands, Suga clicks the email, eyes going unfocused as he reads about how the channel is interested in exploring the “romance between the two high school sweethearts” and “if they still kept in touch now”. 

Without realizing, Suga grabs his phone and rings Daichi. 

“Suga?” Daichi asks, “Is everything okay?”

“They want to interview me Daichi,” Suga breathes out. “Some sports magazine, I don’t know and it says they want to know what our relationship is like. Daichi what am I supposed to do? How did they even find me? I thought it’d die down by now but it’s getting worse.” 

Daichi lets out a slow breath, before saying, “I was kind of worried that might happen. But I think I can help.” 

“Um, Daichi? You’re just now mentioning this? No offense, but what the fuck,” Suga mutters, wondering what police force power Daichi has been withholding from him all this time. 

“Not through my job, no,” Daichi can’t help but laugh, and Suga finds himself shaking his head with a small smile. “Unfortunately with technology and so much information easily accessible, it’s not necessarily illegal to email someone. But I’m still in touch with Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s old friend? I’m sure they still talk to each other. I didn’t want to bother him if I didn’t have to, that’s why I didn’t mention it before.” 

“Oh? I didn’t know this,” Suga gasps, momentarily forgetting his own plight to tease his friend. 

He can feel the eye roll on the other end of the line, a sudden pang in his chest when he realizes how long it’s been since he’s seen Daichi. He makes a mental note to find time in their schedules sometime soon.

“It’s not like that, you menace,” Daichi says, “We ran into each other a lot at the gym when I lived in Tokyo for a bit, so we still talk sometimes.”

“Well thank God one of us stayed in shape,” Suga mutters, smiling at Daichi’s static laugh through the phone.

“Anyways, we’re not super close but I’m sure he’d be willing to help out if he could. It’s probably the best way we can reach Oikawa if they are still close,” Daichi says.

“Thanks Daichi, that actually helps a lot. When I become an overnight internet sensation, I’ll be sure to remember you,” Suga responds. 

“I will never forgive the internet if they make your head any bigger. Though it’s good to hear you can joke about it now,” Daichi says, and Suga lets the warmth in his tone wrap around him, takes a quick breath. 

“Me too. I’m glad I called you, Daichi,” Suga says, knows that Daichi will wave him off if he’s explicit in his gratitude. He is grateful though, anxieties of rumors and his career fading away after the words from his friend.

“I’m glad too. Take care of yourself, okay?” Daichi responds, and Suga assures him he will before hanging up and closing his laptop, laying back to stare at the ceiling. 

It confuses him, how things can move so quickly, but he figures this is just the nature of media. Suga hates this feeling though - of being helpless. Recent events bring his memories back to high school, staying up all night studying plays and making signals for his teammates. Briefly, he wonders if Oikawa knows what’s happening, that some offhand interview comment caught enough attention for someone to do research. From what he recalls, he wouldn’t say Oikawa is one to feel helpless either. Suga questions what actions the old rival may have taken, all the way on the other side of the world. 

He thinks back to the interview, what Oikawa had said. _“It’s weird isn’t it? The things we remember”._ Yes, Suga thinks, how weird, the memories the mind clings to, the moments it brings back to the forefront. The child you played in the sand with when you were eight. The taste of your favorite ice cream when you’re eleven. The smell lingering on the sheets of the bed of your first lover. How weird, the act of remembering. How strange, to be remembered. 

* * *

Suga decides to ignore the email, and the internet, for his own well-being. He throws himself back in routine, construction paper cutouts and washing sticky hands. The smell of coffee in the mornings, interrupting the scent of his soap from the shower. It’s not quite monotonous, but it’s a rhythm that feels familiar, and a week passes by with nothing extraordinary. 

On Sunday, Suga wakes up a bit later than usual, checking the clock to see it’s 9:30. He moves lazily, showering and preparing breakfast. His phone lights up, and he sees a text from Daichi with the the words _I’m so sorry._

Confused, Suga goes to text him back when suddenly his phone is ringing. The unfamiliar area code makes him pause, disbelief flooding his mind as he answers. 

Putting the phone to his ear, he says a small, “Hello?”

“Mr. Refreshing,” Suga hears and chills run down his spine. It’s deeper, fuller than he remembers, but the voice is familiar. “Have you heard the news? Apparently we’re lovers.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave it to oikawa to get straight to the point.
> 
> sorry if this moved fast, i just know internet trends get out of control easily, and it would probably seem much more confusing from suga's end since he has no agents or anything. this may or may not be built upon later, we'll see!
> 
> thank you so much for reading! this was my first fan week(end) and it was pretty fun. 
> 
> feel free to talk to me on [tumblr](https://saekoshousewife.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/sapphosaeko), i'd love to hear from you!


End file.
